Post by P(D)enny La(i)ne on Dec 6, 2011 16:37:21 GMT -5

Preaching practices

Narrow-minded hypocrites

Can you take me back?

You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat.Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat.Ain't it hard when you discovered that.He really wasn't where it's at.After he took from you everything he could steal.

Post by seasaltcaramel on Dec 7, 2011 2:59:00 GMT -5

i went to an auction tonight. I bought eugene o'neil's "mourning becomes elektra" in a box of books for $5. It was printed in 1931. Ebay is deceptive. Its listed for $125. Who would pay $125 for a book?

Who wants a copy for $124.99?

They also had a copy of "alice's adventures in wonderland" printed in 1924. I was checking it out and felt embarassed. I confused c.s. lewis with lewis carroll. I didnt realize that the book came out in the 1800s. I was really surprised. About as surprised as when i discovered its surprise and not suprise. A real skullfuck. I'll through in the alice book too.

Do you think it's possible that the woman on the album cover is herb albert's is a witch?

There was this thing that john sinclair would do that really bothered me. He would talk and reference what he was about to say before you knew the subject. An example:

"we loved to smoke dope. Dope was real good and, now i always told him i didnt like this, but lennon liked how paranoid he got, and im telling you this in his words now, when he was being followed by the 'brain police'."

"fuck me? Huh? you wanna throw bottles at me? Well, let me tell you something -- you're paying $15 to see me and im making 10,000 so fuck you!" -- iggy pop on metallic 'ko (a recording of their last concert sent out to the members of the german fan club)

so i was listening to obrecht earlier and i was trying to get into it. This is what i came up with:at the time obrecht was alive (the late 1500s) the standard for a composer was the mass. That was the framework you had to work with. Every composer at that time worth a damn composed music for the mass. Obrecht and most of these composers specialized in vocal harmony. The orchestra as its recognized today didnt exist. So the music came from the "perspective" of prayer. This is something that comes is expanded on by the rosicrucians: "every song is a prayer, every dance a sacrifice" (i know im butchering that, forgive me). Thats the idea, though. So, the majority of the musicians and composers were directly involved with the religious establishments of their time. Theres nothing to this, necessarily, meaning i dont think of this as a repressive situation, its just how it worked at the time. Obrecht was himself a member of the clergy and took his compositions very seriously, just as you would hope the priest at a church takes what he is doing seriously. But, like many priests he was sent from one place to another for one reason or another and had the chance to see the world. I should add, that with rosicrucianism, we are dealing with the beginning of an early evangelical movement. This is one reason why priests will travel. Not so different from rock bands, but it is different. There are different intentions when you compare the two. But i will let you do that yourself.The main idea has to do with songs. When priests would travel they would come across the differences of regions, whether its their songs or in their interpretations of scripture. Their would be differences. In the sense a mass written by obrecht and a mass written by charpentier are different, despite the fact the ceremony is the "same". This is the fact, now my speculation begins

"its usually around the time i imagine the drummer as a tibetan fire demon that the trouble begins"

Post by seasaltcaramel on Dec 8, 2011 10:22:41 GMT -5

seasaltcarousel wrote:Do you think it's possible that the woman on the album cover is herb albert's is a witch?

She's a white witch. ;D

No, that's how you spell it.

There must be some kind of mojo that attaches itself to these women. I dont know how relevant, or scientific, this is but these people must be like orgasm batteries or something.

Anyway...

Now, there's a thought you can run with. relevant and scientific

No, that's not how you spell it.

Not where I come from

those glasses make me want to:

a) laugh hystericallyb) rantc) get a screwdriverd) do nothing and wait until she dropse) stop being bitter and learn to love the atom bomb

"satan look at me."

do you think yoko got them to invent this hoax?

The john cage book of poetry yoko was trying to get together. She asked paul to contribute. I had one of those "this song was inspired by..." books about the beatles. It says "the word" was written for john cage. curious... We already know paul and yoko were balling before she met john but... unless this book is mistaken it would mean yoko was involved with the group in 1965. Its probably mistaken.Probably.It was most likely given to john cage, not written for him. Its interesting how bad research can be used to support absurd conclusions.

i do tzhink yoko has poor taste but probably has quite a beit to do with this hoax we all enjoy so mnuch. She definiftely benefits from this image of two starcrossed loveras, thougsh. Theres a small group ocf people that "beniefit" from this album title, myself included. Now i csan say, without hesitation, that she is totalmly delusional. Totally rich and "famious", and deslusional. Then again, if she isnt a wdumbitch...I like the stories about magic alex and his candle magic.

Here is something i came across... Actually i think i posted this and so i came across something wrote a while back:

a butterflytake away the wingsand you have a pepper

no, no the master says:

a pepper add wings and you have a butterfly

a poet must always be positive.

Alejandro jodorowsky

"its usually around the time i imagine the drummer as a tibetan fire demon that the trouble begins"

Post by seasaltcaramel on Dec 8, 2011 20:56:45 GMT -5

im listening to "come together" by the mc5 right now. "we hope you all did... come together". I've spent the past hour filling bnlack tapes i found in a paper bag. I got them at a dollar store that was going out of business. There is that song "solid... Solid as a rock! Thats what this love is..." i got that greatest hits cd for 30 cents. I had never heard the song before, and now, when im at work, it plays at least once a day. Its strange how that happens.

So i was sitting, thinking what next for the tape? I have this problem where records will be stashed away and when i find them they can be covered in either ash or wax. There is nothing like finding the record you are looking for and see it has been mauled. There is nothing like having that happen but, somehow, it happens yet the one song you were looking for remains perfectly clean. Like the clash's first album. The only song that has been preserved - that hasnt covered in incense ash and red wax - is "police and thieves".

So i was sitting and i think "i would like to listen to that song". "that song" is from an album sold at the mystery train in amherst. It was a christmas compilation someone took the time to produce. It came with a cassette as well but i never listened to it. I never listened to the other songs either because i couldnt stop listening to "that song".

Last christmas i didnt have a job, so, like a bum i walked around town searching for half smoked cigarettes. Its funny actually because there was another guy doing and we developed this antagonistic relationship. As you might imagine it was a bit depressing, creeping around at 1 in the morning through the mill cracking open those pyramid things before a security guard called the cops. Invariably a cop would stop me, and being in my manic winter spirit i would ask him all sorts of questions. He thought i must be a drug addict or something for wearing a t shirt in december. "no officer, i just have trouble sleeping." i once found a little yellow piece of paper someone tried to burn in a cigarette pyramid. It was a list:"4 2 ft pieces of ropeone gagone pink dildolube"there were a few other things too gnarly to mention. I would have gone to the cops but what was i going to tell them? I was taking cigarettes out of one of those pyramids and found this...

Anyway, it was around this time i started getting interested enough in this topic to contribute here. Winter has always been a strange time. The first strange winter i associate with a room with all the windows open, shivering, listening to "whats going on" (the album) over and over again. I realize know i was trying to break myself like a navy seal. It worked, and i even learned to enjoy riding 15 miles at 3 in the morning to see a friend or two. I learned to enjoy exhausting myself, like a good little jesuit.My friend went to umass and came back for christmas with this record. Nothing struck me until i got to the third song. And i didnt listen to the rest of the record or the tape because there was something profound about this song. It was evil, but it wasnt evil at all. It was very beautiful. The lyrics were bizarre. Her voice is out of tune at times but the sound and those lyrics made it sound so alien that i stopped caring.Its this sort of mojo that seems to accumulate every winter.Prisma - galaxy of misery (winter mix)

(mystery)

"its usually around the time i imagine the drummer as a tibetan fire demon that the trouble begins"

drop a whisper into the airits fragile as a wisp of haira galaxy of miseryis deep inside your eyes claudine

oh claudinelying next to a spiderher tears bake and stick like doughto his fickle fiber

did anybody find hera frozen bower in a tombhis widows mystery

snatch a sad song from the airits heavier than you can beara galaxy of misery is deep inside your eyes claudine-----

i decided to actually write the lyrics down. I even took a "spare" sleeve and wrote the lyrics on that. There is something great about cleaning .I have to tell you though these lyrics probably arent exact. I had the hardest time with "a frozen bower in a tomb". It sounds like she says a tome, or is about to finish october but doesnt. Near my home there is a place called "bower springs", and so a frozen bower might work...

Bower, bou er, n [a.sax. Bur, a chamber, from buan, to dwell; icel. Bur a chamber from bua, to live; akin boor, bound (ready).] a womans private apartment; any room in a house except the hall (in these senses now only poetical); a shelter made with boughs or twining plants; an arbor; a shady recess.

I chose bower in a tomb because its what sounded correct. But, and i think this is worth mentioning if you have no desire to listen to the song. She says "her tears turn to santa claus" or at least you think she does. I had to listen to the "bower" line repeatedly with the cryptic "his widows mystery".

Now, does "a cloud in" kill her husband?The perspective is fascinating. You have the feeling "manson" couldnt have gotten away with it if this lady were there. She is a white witch. Like a bard, she is there to reveal and not to conquer. Its an angel, a clumsy, slightly tainted angel, like an ancestral spirit or memory. Its quiet, a whisper so it doesnt wake up a principality. Its wicked in this sense. It comes across in the lyrics. They arent clear. Its a benevolent phantom but it is a phantom. It tells a wicked story of a woman and she is beside a spider. Her tears turn the sand to glass. Who is inside the frozen bower? There is that contrast.

drop a whisper into the airits fragile as a wisp of hair

snatch a sad song out of the airits heavier than you can bear

there was no label on the record so at first i thought the final lines were about the galaxy of mystery inside my cloudy eyes. i figured they were just witches casting a spell, trying to hypnotize me into hearing different words. Then i realized they were talking about the galaxy of misery, and the connections to the desert. The eyes in the cloud, and the tears that turn the sand to glass. The sand to glass. You can see through the sand. The lamp falls over mountains. The sun sets in the desert. The spidergawd, in a masculine form, brings up images of cannibalism. Notice on the record there is a song "theme to cannibal holocaust". Just drew that now. The word used to describe the spidergawd of the desert is fickle:

fickle fik l a [a.sax. Ficol, inconstant; akin to g. Ficken, to move quickly to and fro] wavering; inconstant; unstable; of a changeable mind; irresolute; not firm in opinion or purpose; capricious; liable to change or vicissitude.

The dough line is curiously backwards. If i were a priest in pepperland and i heard the choir singing this song i would ask them to sing it again later so i could transcribe it. The bread line would be the keystone to the songs real origin --- the bowers of hell!

Mourning becomes elektra.

"its usually around the time i imagine the drummer as a tibetan fire demon that the trouble begins"